More Than Music
by theatrics
Summary: Four oneshots set to four different songs for various Hairspray characters and couples. This is for Obviously Insane's iPod challenge!
1. The Song of Purple Summer

**Whoo! My first little oneshot for Obviously Insane's iPod challenge. Though, admittedly, I do not have an iPod. :P Lmao, Windows Media Player's shuffle ALL THE WAYYY! Anyway, this one's about Amber, and I very much enjoyed writing it. I ADORE her character, mainly thanks to my girl, for whom this was written, of course. :) I hope you all enjoy it! Nine more to go, whoooo! I'm excited!  
**

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_"The Song of Purple Summer" - Spring Awakening_

_and all shall fade,  
the flowers of spring,  
the world and all the sorrows,  
at the heart of everything,_

_but still it stays,  
the butterfly sings,  
and opens purple summer,  
with a flutter of its wings._

It was a glorious change from the usual. The day was calm and serene, even inviting, and Amber von Tussle was more than delighted to quietly excuse herself from her home while her mother was out, presumably 'working.' In any case, the sun was low on the horizon, and the air held a certain, faint, yet still unfamiliar, chill for an early summer sunset in Baltimore, Maryland. Amber was clearly not complaining, of course, because as soon as she stepped outside into the fading sunlight, she felt a particular and notable twinge of pleasure.

The light poured onto her skin, offering a grand amount of reassurance as she ventured out the front steps of her home. In all honesty, she had no reason to be outside. She had no place to be, no one to meet, and no rehearsals to attend. In fact, it was a lone Friday evening in late June: the first in a long time that she had nothing to do. No one had invited her out. No one had asked her to do something with them the next day, or even on Sunday. She had been left to her own doings, whatever they happened to be.

Miss Teenage Hairspray was over, and, essentially, so was she. Yet, somehow, that felt all right. Her stomach was no longer turning. Her eyebrows were not longer furrowed in confusion and offense. Her eyes no longer burned with those 'tears,' however authentic they may or may not be. Although, her shoulders held themselves significantly lower than usual, yet the sense of being overthrown did not come along with the simple gesture. It was a silent form of relief - relief in the form of a huge weight being taken off her slender shoulders.

Suddenly, she was just Amber, and… that felt okay. It was different and unexpected, but strangely okay with her. Though she, in all probability, had few to no friends now, though her mother had since been fired, taken into custody for questioning, and then released in a fit of rage, and though she felt as though a large part of her life had been ripped from her perfectly manicured fingernails, she felt okay. She felt calm and relaxed and somewhat guaranteed; though, of what, she was entirely uncertain.

All that she knew at this very moment was, that she wanted to get out of the house. There was no sense in sitting there, pretending she cared that her phone would ring, or that there would be a knock on her door, when, in actuality, she was, more or less, okay with it.

Of course, not even she could shake the obvious, sharp edge of emptiness that clung effortlessly to her heart. She could not dare say that she was not affected by the loss of a select few people.

Tammy Smith, her best friend since childhood, had not spoken to her for days. Shelley Ambrose, her obvious choice of a sparring partner, had not even bothered to provoke or ridicule her, and Amber quickly became aware of the pleasant balance that the redhead offered in her life. She finally understood, though would probably never admit it aloud. Link Larkin, her ex-beau and unfortunate, ( though, now, again, _ex_ ) official arm candy - well, Amber couldn't say that she could miss something so unnecessary. She was thankful to have him gone. At last, she was finally free from that suffocating front.

Despite it all, though, Amber still felt all right and okay and even a little decent, at times. It was most unlike herself, yet, at the same time, it felt sort of right, almost as though she was finally being given the opportunity to just be Amber.

She wasn't going to lie: _of course_ she was going to miss being the Queen B, the Queen of Patterson Park High School, and the Queen, well - in all technicalities, _Princess_, of Baltimore, but that was all … okay. She couldn't explain just why, couldn't, for some odd reason, place her finger on the reason or even any single explanation, but she just could not call it a loss, because she didn't feel as though it was one. She felt light and unhindered for one of the first times in her life, and calling that a 'loss' of any persuasion would truly be tragic.

Though a complete change in character was out of the question, she knew that she could still be Amber von Tussle: respected and renowned. Titles or no titles; they could never take away her dignity.

There were different paths to take, and more tactful ways of going about getting her way. Though, one thing was for certain: lapsing into an precise, carbon copy of her mother was simply unthinkable. Amber had class, style, and, on most days, enough discretion to get her by; she knew how to work others with something that her mother never candidly possessed.

Amber had intellect. It was rusty, virtually unused, and highly unexplored, because her mother had never allowed her to, but it was still there. Her head wasn't empty, contrary to the remarks of others.

The art of successful manipulation didn't come to those without the brain power to back it up. Amber knew what she was doing. She knew how to get where and what she wanted.

Perhaps that was why this was okay, why everything was okay. She had just been stripped of everything that she had ever known, and yet she was surprisingly all right with it.

Because she knew that she could get it back. Because she knew that she could rebuild her temporarily disrupted foundation.

Tucking her hands at the small of her back, Amber paused suddenly. Her house was now five blocks away, give or take, and the sun hung so low on the horizon now that it was just barely peeking out from behind it with its array of colors. Allowing her teeth to lightly graze her bottom lip, she stared over at an abandoned lot where a chorus of fireflies were beginning to circle around one another.

Abruptly torn by the decision of either returning home or continuing onward, Amber von Tussle gradually turned her head back to the path ahead, her back toward her home, and willed her feet to continue down the uninhabited sidewalk, making certain that she enjoyed the faint, yet almost tranquil clicking sound of her heels against the pavement and the solitary and melodic chirps of a few nearby crickets as she walked on.

_the earth will wave with corn,  
the grey-fly choir will mourn,  
and mares will neigh  
with stallions that they mate,  
foals they've borne,_

_and all shall know the wonder  
of purple summer..._

_And yet, I wait.  
the swallow brings  
a song to hard to follow,  
that no one else can sing._

_the fences sway,  
the porches swing,  
the sky begins to thunder,  
crickets wander, murmuring._

_and all shall know the wonder:  
I will sing the song of purple summer._


	2. No Air

**Thank you SO much for all of the sweet and very encouraging reviews of the first chapter! I really, really appreciate it! This is my first time writing IQ/Tammy, so I hope that I do them justice. I also want to thank Tracy immensely for being SUCH a big help with this (and with all) of my writing. This is for you, babe! :)**

**Also... just a little fun note: this chapter has/had a comedic alternate ending, but, obviously, it's not included. It was more for mine and Tracy's entertainment, so we decided not to go with it, in the end, lmao.**

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_"No Air" - Jordin Sparks feat. Chris Brown_

_if I should die before I wake,  
it's 'cause you took my breath away.  
losing you is like living in a world with no air._

Tammy couldn't help that she was shy. She always had been. Amber, Lou Ann, and Becky had all tried numerous, even countless, times to help her, to try to make her less introverted and more dynamic and outgoing, but to no avail. It was just who she was. Every crush she had ever had was always in vain, if only because she was just too shy to pursue it. Some other girl always ended up taking advantage of the open opportunity, thus rendering Tammy in the same position she supposed that she would always be in.

The stakes had changed, though, when a certain boy first joined the Corny Collins Council just a few months after she had. It took her much longer than the other girls to learn his name; although, granted, the other girls didn't even have to try, as they appeared to have little to no interest in him. In their eyes, he was a square. He was awkward and undesirable. However, in Tammy's eyes: he was _magnificent_.

His name was IQ Collins, and, to Tammy, he was an angel in disguise. They had become instant friends at fourteen, when he first joined the Council, and had been happily at that status ever since. Though, now they were seventeen, and still, not a single Council Kid could deny the palpable chemistry that radiated from the pair whenever they were even within twenty feet of each other.

It was infectious. The smiles that would creep onto their faces when they were around each other sometimes managed to even wind up on others'. They were two good, honest kids, probably some of Baltimore's finest. Now all they needed was all little push. Or, at least, one of them did.

"Tammy," Amber spoke somewhat quietly as she glanced over at her friend. They were sitting on the floor of Amber's room. It was one of theirs, Lou Ann's, and sometimes, Becky's many and recurrent sleepovers; however, at the moment, it was only Tammy and Amber in the room. Lou Ann and Becky were busy rummaging in the downstairs cabinets for alcohol, since Velma was out. Clearly, it was Becky's idea.

"Huh?" Tammy blinked her blue eyes and turned her head from where she was eyeing Amber's vanity blankly.

"_Tell me _you've finally talked to… you-know-who?" Amber felt silly talking in code, but she knew that it would probably make Tammy feel better, some way or another.

Tammy paused and licked her lips nervously.

"Who… what do you mean?"

Amber's eyebrows furrowed as she eyed her friend. Without a doubt, Tammy was her best friend, and had been for years, but Amber had yet to crack the code on how Tammy's mind worked, particularly when it came to the boys that she liked.

"Tammy."

The brunette sighed and curled her hands in her lap tensely. She always felt so uncomfortable talking about the subject, mainly because others always seemed to say the same things to her: _'Come on! All you have to do is _say something_! You're wasting your time just sitting around. You're going to lose him that way, you know.'_

"I know I should, but I…" Tammy trailed off, her eyes raking the floor pointlessly.

"But, you what?" Amber countered, trying to coax her to continue. Tammy was the only friend that Amber had ever really cared for, or made efforts for. She actually cared how to help her. She wasn't just an accessory. She was fragile, and worth holding onto as a friend, which was almost like a breath of fresh air for the blonde.

"I guess I'm just nervous, or scared, or… something," Tammy shrugged her shoulders and forced her gaze upward. She expected to see a look of disappointment on her friend's face, or something, but, instead, she saw something else, something that not even she could explain, and that Amber most likely couldn't, either.

"Tammy," Amber rolled her eyes somewhat, though in a way that clearly showed she was just playing with her. "You already know that he likes you. You and the rest of the studio, anyway." Pursing her rosy lips slightly, Amber looked on as Tammy nodded silently.

"Yeah, I mean… I guess so."

"Tammy, come on," Amber sighed in what appeared to be frustration; however, a faint hint of a smile could be traced upon her lips. "Promise that you'll at last _act_ more interested around him?" When she didn't reply right away, Amber let her eyebrows crease against her forehead.

"You don't want to lose him, right?"

"No!" Tammy countered quickly. See. There was again, those same words. Yet, Tammy knew they were true.

"Then _do_ something," Amber began again, as she pulled her own legs beneath her and leaned against the side of her bed. "I would help you more, Tammy, but I really think you can do this on your own. I think it'd be good for you, you know? I know you can do this."

"Yeah," Tammy swallowed hard, and then sighed again. This whole situation made her a nervous wreck. She couldn't help herself. She knew that this was more than just some high school crush; that was precisely why this was so difficult.

"Tammy?" Amber narrowed her eyes a little.

"What?"

But Amber didn't say anything back. She produced a small, knowing half-smile, half-smirk. Instantly, Tammy found herself smiling, if only slightly.

"Thanks, Amber."

At that moment, both Becky and Lou Ann returned, a single bottle of vintage wine in hand. Turning her head from the brunette, Amber regarded the other two girls with a dull grin, and then glanced back at Tammy for just a moment before obtaining a petite glass from Lou Ann.

"Mmhm."

_i'm here alone, didn't wanna leave.  
my heart won't move, it's incomplete.  
wish there was a way that I could make you understand…_

"You must be stupid."

"Gee, thanks, Shelley," IQ rolled his eyes, though he know this was just Shelley's 'tough love' complex.

"No, really. You're an idiot."

"I got it the first time."

"Apparently, you didn't," Shelley said, as she began to primp in front of her dressing table, which was near where IQ and she were talking.

"What are you talking about, Shelley?" IQ asked flatly, his eyebrows lowered.

"_Why_ is it that you and Tammy have yet to go out on one single date? It's a little mind-blowing, to tell you the truth, and not to mention slightly obnoxious."

IQ rolled his eyes. Shelley and he had been good friends since he arrived on the Council, but she had a knack for being too blunt and abrasive… pretty much all the time.

"It's none of your business."

"It is."

"What makes you say that?"

"Brenda," Shelley spoke dully to the passing girl, as IQ looked on, relatively confused. Immediately, Brenda turned her head toward the two.

"If it's about Tammy, I'd really rather not get involved," Brenda curled her fingers against her hips and pursed her lips in discontent.

"How did she—"

"It's not exactly rocket science, Ian Quinn," Shelley rolled her eyes and continued to study her reflection in the mirror for another moment. "_You_ just so happen to be an open book."

Brenda, who had remained in her posed and sassy position, merely smirked and shrugged her shoulders.

"Shelley, he's a lost cause."

"Perhaps," Shelley rolled her shoulders and stared over at her dance partner.

"Well, thanks, girls," IQ replied sardonically, clearly readying himself to leave the area. Friends or not, he wasn't about to take all of these unnecessary hits. Shelley and Brenda exchanged glances, before Shelley neatly sat herself in a chair in front of her dressing table. As she was crossing her legs, she made a point to sigh heavily, an obvious sign that she was wordlessly demanding IQ's attention again.

Allowing his shoulders to fall, IQ abruptly turned back around to face Shelley. He knew that sigh anywhere.

"What?"

"Nothing."

IQ narrowed his eyes in her direction, and then glanced over at Brenda, who appeared to be attempting to control an onset of giggles.

"Well," Shelley began, as moved her fingertips over the back of her own hand. "it's only nothing if losing Tammy to someone such as, say, oh, _Fender_? is nothing."

Brenda chuckled once, and leaned her left side against the edge of the dressing tables as she looked on.

"Yeah," She started, her gaze moving over to the redhead. "_Really_ tragic."

Shelley rolled her eyes at Brenda's response, knowing full well that her friend had slept with that particular Council Boy so many times that even a hooker would be intimidated and throw up the white flag.

"That wouldn't happen," IQ said quietly, as if to convince himself.

"It could," Shelley said indifferently.

"It _does_," Brenda chimed in after her.

Shelley sucked her breath in sarcastically and furrowed her eyebrows at IQ.

"Ouch."

IQ frowned suddenly, and then ran his hand over his hair in frustration. He wasn't sure what to do. Of course he liked Tammy; he had for years now, but he just didn't know where to go from there. Though, at the same time, he knew that if he lost her to someone else, he would regret it incessantly.

"She _is_ a really pretty girl," Shelley continued, after a moment, as she studied her newly done fingernails with feigned interest.

"_Really_ pretty," Brenda echoed, only to gain a sharp and annoyed glance from Shelley. In an attempt to counteract the obvious reproach, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest in forced silence.

"I get it," IQ breathed, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Brenda scoffed, breaking her extremely fickle façade of silence.

"Clearly, you don't, because—"

"Brenda," Shelley narrowed her pale eyes and reprimanded the dark-haired girl with a prickly stare.

"Whatever," Brenda straightened her posture, tipped her nose up slightly, and then stalked off toward where a small group of Council Boys were chatting nearby. The practiced sway of her hips was still ever-so apparent. Shelley couldn't help but to roll her eyes again. What a performance.

"Ian Quinn," Shelley willed herself to stand. "Do us all a favor," She leisurely smoothed out the front of her darkly colored dress with her fanned-out fingers. "and stop acting as though you're a hormonal eleven-year-old, and just tell her. It's only been three years now," Shelley paused, a look of revolted incredulity on her face. "If you were Brenda, you would have already, not only passed home base, but run off the field, collected child support on your way, _and _landed a swarm of men in prison."

IQ's expression melted from thoughtfulness to utter disgust in less than half a second.

"_Shelley_!" He cringed, suddenly feeling a nagging case of nausea in the pit of his stomach. "That's horrible."

"I know," She said, as she effortlessly moved past him, out of the rows of dressing tables. "So, unless you want to wind up as one of those lowly guys that Brenda wears around her pinky finger for a day and then tosses in the garbage the next, I would suggest making a move now, and _quickly_."

"I would never be—"

"That's what they all say," Shelley smirked darkly. "Believe me, I _know_."

IQ shifted uncomfortably, swallowed, and then nodded.

"Yes," He stopped at that simple reply, knowing all too well that tacking on an 'I guess' in agreement intended an irate retort from Shelley for some unintentional accusation of her questionable… _personal life_.

"Well?" Shelley said aloud, after IQ had been silent for several moments. "I'm not going to just waste my day harping to the mirrors. I have things to do."

IQ wanted to roll his eyes again, but, quite frankly, that was getting old. Shelley, Brenda, and even Amber, did it enough for everyone else. Letting his eyes fall to the ground, he sighed. His heart had been heavy for such a long time now, and it was getting to the point of being unbearable. The thought of losing Tammy was unimaginable, and he didn't want that to even have the slightest chance at reality.

He needed her to know. He needed to tell her. He needed _her_.

"I'll…" He paused, collecting his nerve and his thoughts. "I… I'll do it."

Shelley produced an almost questionable smirk as she turned her back to him, her hands at her sides as she began forward.

"I would hurry, then, if I were you," Shelley spoke faintly, her eyes narrowed as they usually were. With one, final smirk of satisfaction, she ventured off backstage to attend to other things.

IQ lifted his head after she had gone and glanced over to where Tammy was smiling and talking vividly with Amber, Lou Ann, and Becky. She looked so happy and bright and, of course, remarkably beautiful. His heart was pounding in his chest and in his ears, but he knew that there was only a matter of time that he could successfully evade fate. Either he told her, or he risked losing her.

And losing her wasn't an option.

_  
but how do you expect me,  
to live alone with just me,  
'cause my world revolves around you,  
it's so hard for me to breathe._

"Later, Tams," Lou Ann said over her shoulder as she and Becky wandered out of the studio. Amber had already gone, claiming that she had some business, or other, to take care of. Tammy had merely smiled and nodded. She wasn't about to question her best friend's motives, however vague or sketchy they were.

"Bye, Lou Ann! Bye, Becky! See you guys tomorrow!" Tammy called, her lips curled into a bright smile. She was virtually the last Council member in the studio. Everyone else had either moved elsewhere, or had simply left. She had chosen to stay behind, though, to pick up a few items to take home from her dressing table.

As she made her way over to the dressing tables, she was surprised to find IQ standing there, nervously shuffling his feet.

"IQ?" She said gently, her eyes blinking in confusion. "Are you all right?"

Nearly jumping out of his skin, IQ snapped back to reality and glanced up at him, his face instantly stained a light shade of red. He had almost left the studio earlier out of nervousness for the situation, but he had since come back, deciding that it was now or never.

"Oh, hey, Tammy."

"I'm sorry… did I scare you?" She wondered, her voice soft with concern as she made her way over to him.

"No, it's all right," He ensured her. Whether she scared him or not wasn't the issue.

"Oh," Tammy smiled reassuringly to him. "Okay. If you say so."

Turning toward her dressing table, she began to gather a few things here and there: a magazine, a tube of mascara, a hairbrush, a paperback book. All the while, IQ simply stood there, trying desperately to pry his eyes off her. She was just so beautiful, and the words were suddenly lodged in his throat. He could feel the beginning of panic rising within him.

"IQ?" She spoke aloud again, and much to IQ's surprise, she was suddenly in front of him. He felt choked.

"…Yes?" IQ hesitated, abruptly overtaken by the concerned look in her perfect blue eyes.

"You've just been standing there. Am I in your way, or something?" Tammy tilted her head a little. He was really beginning to worry her.

"No, no! Ah… sorry about that. I'll," He paused all of a sudden. He would what? Move? Leave her alone? No. Not now. Now when he was so close to finally letting her know how he felt.

"IQ, are you sure you're all right? You've been acting so funn-"

"Tammy, I love you!"

Tammy's mouth was open and poised to say something more, but at an instant her breath was stolen from her. The butterflies in her stomach intensified tenfold, and she barely had any feeling left in her legs as she tried to keep herself upright and standing. She could hardly believe it! Her lips were suddenly dry, and she had to move her tongue across them for a moment before she could even consider replying.

She had waited so long to hear those words, and even longer for this moment with him.

"IQ…" Tammy's eyebrows furrowed slightly against her forehead. He looked like a wreck right now, if only because he knew that every last one of his nerves and insecurities had just been recklessly thrown on the table.

"I… I'll understand if you don't—"

"I love you, too," Tammy replied very softly, her brilliant, blue eyes gleaming so happily up at him. She felt like crying, to be honest, and she didn't even know why. She felt as though she was about to explode from utter bliss. Her stomach was swarming with those pleasant butterflies, and her heart was beating heavily with excitement in her chest.

"You… do?" He asked, after a moment, in disbelief.

Tammy giggled quietly, and then nodded.

"I wouldn't've told you that if I didn't mean it, silly," She smiled sympathetically at him, knowing that he must be crawling with nerves, or that he was about to collapse from shock, or perhaps even both. Twining her fingers in front of her waist, she continued to watch him with a look of indescribable delight.

"I've been wanting to tell you that for a really long time," IQ stated in a hushed voice, after a long fit of silence. His nerves were beginning to fade, and he could feel the sudden smile on his face beginning to grow.

Tammy's heart fluttered again.

"That makes two of us, then," Tammy responded cheerfully, her eyes locked with his, as she dropped her hands to her sides again. He smiled fondly to her, and then gently brushed his fingertips against the back of one of her hands.

"Tammy," He started to speak again, though this time, with a new and, in essence, foreign sense of confidence. "Will you… go steady with me?"

"I would be honored to," She replied delicately, as she felt his fingers very loosely wrap around her own. Leaning up on the tips of her toes, she smiled as she placed a soft, extremely gentle kiss on his cheek, before moving back to watch his face again. At once, IQ's face turned a dark shade of red, much more prominent than before. This, unsurprisingly, drew a quiet giggle from Tammy, as she still loosely held onto his hand.

"So…" She trailed off, unable to conceal the huge grin on her face. "Does this mean I get to call you Ian Quinn finally?" Tammy was, of course, just kidding with him. He had offered that liberty to her long ago; she had just never really exercised it.

"Of course not," He smiled at her playfully.

"Hey!" Tammy laughed, catching on just as quickly. "Well, I see where I stand, a step below Shelley… even now. You let _her_ call you that!" She was trying her hardest not to burst into a fit of giggles.

"That's because Shelley scares the _life_ out of me," IQ cringed jokingly, and then gave Tammy's hand a little squeeze.

"Yeah? Well… all right, I guess," She pretended to sigh hurtfully—even while there was an obvious smile on her face—as she finally released her gentle and slack hold on his hand. "I see how it is."

It was silent for a brief period, before IQ slowly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist in a light, tender embrace. Tammy was initially surprised, but she soon allowed her arms to make their way around his neck.

"Thank you," He whispered softly to her, as he reluctantly released her.

"Thank _you_," She countered affectionately, as she curled her lips into another warm smile. Returning her smile, he gently took her hand again, and then glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Gosh, it's later than I thought," Tammy beat him to it, as she had followed his gaze.

"I'll walk you home, if you would like," IQ offered with a somewhat shy smile.

"I would love that," Tammy, still grinning ear-to-ear, grabbed her bag, and then walked toward the exit with him.

She held onto his hand still, savoring every moment of the feeling of their perfectly twined fingers. Her heart and head felt so light. She felt completely at ease and safe. At last, she finally felt a sense of wholeness in her heart.

_tell me how i'm supposed to breathe with no air.  
can't live, can't breathe with no air.  
that's how I feel whenever you ain't there.  
there's no air, no air.  
got me out here in the water so deep.  
tell me how you gonna be without me.  
if you ain't here, i just can't breathe;  
there's no air, no air._

_i walked, i ran, i jumped, i flew,  
right off the ground to float to you.  
there's no gravity to hold me down, for real._

_but somehow i__'__m still alive inside.  
you took my breath, but I survived.  
i don't know how, but i don__'__t even care._


	3. I Feel Everything

**This chapter is really close to my heart, for obvious reasons. Just a forewarning, though, it is a tad dark. I really hope that you guys enjoy it. Just as always, this is for my girl. She helped me an incredible amount with this one, especially (though, she is always _such _an amazing help with everything!). This was written for her, because she's been wanting to read it for some time now. :D Here you go, babe!!**

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_"I Feel Everything" - Idina Menzel_

_like a prima ballerina,  
i tip toe, tip toe around you constantly.  
i hear the water running.  
will it wash your tears or leak through the ceiling?  
make my way up a spiral staircase,  
hope to God you had a good day._

It was almost difficult to explain, the façade that she put on display for the world to examine and pick apart day after day. After so many years of being brought up as a show dog, a trophy child, it was strangely complicated to explain the exact reason why her front intended an inevitable, and quite possibly fatal, fall. It was defective, unnecessary, and so practiced that it was almost who she was all-together. There was virtually no separation between her actuality and the front that she portrayed on a daily basis. It was consuming. The user had unintentionally become the abused.

Truthfully, Shelley could not say that she hated her mother. She had never hated her parents, either of them. As a matter of fact, she was, surprisingly enough, one of those children who held a certain lack of understanding for those whom 'hated' or 'disliked' the ones that brought them up and laid the foundation for whom they would be. Shelley had always respected her mother, yet thought very little of her father. Her mother ran the family, essentially. She pulled out all the stops, made the larger salary, and she supposed that her father just did not possess enough dignity to say a word about it, which was scarcely _normal_, or even justifiable, in her eyes. Though, she also couldn't say that she cared.

She had grown up in a life where female dominance was ridiculously prominent; therefore, that was how she was brought up to live and be, as well. She never once allowed any male in her life to overpower her. She was indefinitely against it. Her mother had taught her to work for what she wanted, to use what she had to overcome others, and to keep a stiff upper lip through it all. Although using what she had clearly become bent out of proportion as she matured, Shelley knew precisely what she was doing. Over the years, she had sharpened her craft and made her intentions known.

Her mother had insisted that Shelley mature as quickly as possible. She didn't want to deal with the unavoidable problems of adolescence for too long, or, in all honesty, at all. Shelley, decidedly, didn't, either. She wanted to prove herself, to prove that she could fend for herself at an early age, and thus show her mother that she was prepared for the next step.

That was why Shelley had smoked her first cigarette, started drinking, and lost her virginity all at the unspeakable age of thirteen. Her mother, of course, never said a word to her about it. As much as she harped to Shelley about keeping her image up, keeping her eyes ahead, and keeping her mind sharp, it was a mild surprise that she never once stopped her only daughter from doing all of those potentially dangerous things. Shelley assumed that it was a silent understanding of "if I don't see it or hear about, then I honestly do not care". However, this lack of caring was genuine disinterest as opposed to a mother who just did not want to follow through with her maternal obligations. So long as Shelley kept her image up, Anne Ambrose did not care what she did in the slightest.

For her mother, a woman's image was her _everything_. Shelley had been programmed to believe the same principle, only to a much more extreme degree. Anne lived vicariously through her daughter. Any slip or physical, mental, or emotional imperfection, and it would have to be eradicated instantaneously. She was building her daughter into what she believed was the most perfect and beautiful replica of herself. However, thus far, the results were more disappointing than she would have liked to believe.

Shelley knew that she probably should have resented her mother, but she could not. Though it had come late in Anne Ambrose's life, she was now a successful woman, and that was what Shelley knew that she aspired to be, as well. While her mother's early life was montage after montage of failures and disappointments, now, in the middle of her life, she was finally right where she wanted to be, and she did not want a repeat performance of her own life out of her daughter.

That was why she worked her so hard. That was why she controlled virtually every aspect of her life. That was why she drove her to sickening extremes and dared to watch as the side effects began to wreck havoc on her only child. She had an obsession with perfection, an obsession with making certain that she was not disappointed with Shelley's physical and public image, as well as her list of accomplishments.

As intelligent as Shelley prided herself to be, she found herself caught and held in her own mother's poisonous clutch. She couldn't escape, and yet she wasn't sure if she wanted to. As much as Anne pissed her off, as much as she put her down, and as hard as she pushed her on a day to day basis, there was still that natural borne instinct to please her mother, as well as herself, and Shelley just could not shake that.

Still, out of all of the things that her mother supposedly 'did for her,' there was one that had truly enveloped Shelley. The others could be shaken, even halted all-together, should she so choose to; however, there was something that she just couldn't detach herself from. It had become apart of her, a habit; it had become _hers_. For a moment, she felt as though her mother no longer held the reins, and, somehow, Shelley knew that brief sensation was precisely the effect that her mother had intended.

"Shelley Anne, darling, come here," She had said, her slender fingers curling into a beckoning motion as she summoned her daughter from her place in their living room. Naturally, Shelley had obeyed.

"You know, dear, with that big audition coming up, I know _just_ the thing to help you prepare for it." Her mother's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she studied her young daughter's face.

Shelley watched her in silence for a moment.

"Mother, I've already scheduled to meet with Alexandra six times a week instead of five," Shelley stated evenly, her expression steady as she kept her gaze locked with her mother's. Though Alexandra had been Shelley's private dance instructor since a very young age, even _she_ wasn't thrilled about the extra and longer practices. Shelley, however, didn't outwardly appear to mind too much.

"No, sweetheart, I'm talking about something different," She paused, as she stood suddenly. "something much more _effective_."

Shelley remained silent as her eyebrows furrowed somewhat in question. Her lips parted, but she closed them as she soon realized that she wasn't particularly sure how she wanted to answer her. As her mother watched her expectantly, Shelley crossed her arms over her chest and carefully narrowed her eyes.

"What is it?" She asked, though somewhat hesitantly. Shelley wasn't certain what else she could possibly do. Three, sometimes four, hour practices six days a week seemed to be plenty of preparation. Sure, she dieted, on occasion, but that wasn't really necessary for a singing and dancing audition, so long as she remained physically fit.

"It's something that my mother taught me, Shelley Anne. Now, follow me, and listen carefully," Anne instructed, as she began toward the downstairs' nearest hallway. Shelley almost reluctantly followed her, inwardly deciding if whatever this was would actually wind up as beneficial.

She had her doubts.

Much to Shelley's surprise, their final destination was outside of the downstairs bathroom. Narrowing her eyes again in a very uncertain manner, she allowed her gaze to fall on her mother once more.

"Why are we here?" She wondered flatly, obviously unimpressed.

"Shelley," Anne turned to face her daughter, her expression suddenly grim with solemnity. "I've told you how I've thought that you've really let yourself go these past few months, correct?"

Shelley's eyes narrowed further, and her chest abruptly stung with something that she had grown accustomed to all these years: absolute, unadulterated _fury_. Not caring to string a thorough reply together, the redhead vaguely nodded her head.

"Well, due to your lack of attentiveness, or faulty level of concern - whatever it may be, we no longer have the adequate amount of time to put you on a suitable diet. Therefore, I decided that now is the perfect opportunity to introduce the method of _cleansing_," Her mother told her, as Shelley looked on with a lackluster gaze. When Shelley failed to respond, Anne's expression darkened to a glare.

"Tell me, dear," She started again, her voice low. "When was it that you last ate?"

"I made dinner just as you asked me to about an hour and a half ago," Shelley replied, almost mechanically.

"Good," Anne turned, and then effortlessly pushed the bathroom door open. "Now, come in here, and do as I say."

_on a tightrope,  
on a wire,  
i'll attempt to jump through the ring of fire.  
i'm waiting all the while,  
for a glimpse of something to bring us higher.  
one little foot in front of the other,  
don't you know i'm afraid of thunder?_

That was it. That one moment with her mother, though unbeknownst to her, would become the one thing that defined who she was, and who she would be.

That day, the fresh thoughts that her mother had placed in her head stayed with her, persistent with their fervent, mental persuasion. A whole new world and a new way of handling things had been introduced to her, and it was somewhat overwhelming, yet still endlessly intriguing. At her age then, she thought little to nothing of it. It was just an option, something that would be advantageous to her whenever she called upon it.

However, it wasn't until later that night, after her mother had already retired to her room for the evening, that Shelley took her mother's words to heart and found herself kneeling on the cold, tile floor before that very same toilet.

The feeling was indescribable; it made her feel more or less indifferent. The acidic feeling in her throat, the taste of sickness in her mouth and on her lips: it almost didn't feel real. It was odd that, though she didn't think too much of it that first time, Shelley did feel a certain twinge of satisfaction and accomplishment afterwards. She felt in-control, and she distinctly enjoyed the thought of finally having control over something; whereas, her mother did not.

This was _hers_.

_there's a fine line between love and hurting,  
and knowing just when to walk away._

She was fourteen-years-old when she was introduced to the act that indirectly and unknowingly shaped and molded her entire character to the headstrong, domineering seventeen-year-old that she was at the present.

It was strange, but: the only thing noticeably different from where she was then, and where she eventually ended up, was that past sense and rush of satisfaction. The once-satisfaction had since morphed into a feeling of confinement, a feeling of inescapable portions. That previous feeling of being in control of the situation had long since crumbled, and she came to realize that she had never really been in control in the first place.

It was her mother. Her mother was her captor of which there appeared to be no escape, of which Shelley had absolutely no control whatsoever.

And it was her mother, not the obsessive sickness that she had bestowed upon her, that was slowly, but surely completely destroying Shelley.

_when you fall apart,  
when you have no heart,  
i feel everything._


	4. Umbrella

**So, I've wanted to write about the friendship that Amber and Tammy share for a while now. I have them where they've been friends for years now, since childhood, and I think that it's a very nice friendship. Also, of course, you'll notice that Shelley's in here, because Amber and Shelley sort of treat Tammy as a younger sister. Quite the... functional family, right? ;) As always, I must thank Tracy for the immense help that she gave me with this. She is Amber; and I'm always making sure that I'm writing her Amber just right. :) I love you, baby! Enjoy!**

* * *

_"Umbrella" - Rihanna feat. Jay-Z_

_you had my heart,__  
and we'll never be world apart,__  
maybe in magazines,__  
but you'll still be my star.  
baby, 'cause in the dark,  
you can't see shiny cars,  
and that's when you need me there,  
with you i'll always share…_

From behind the closed door of Amber Von Tussle's bedroom, erupted an onset of giggles. Inside, Amber was busy keeling over from the sight of what a purposefully badly applied makeover had done to her best friend, Tammy Smith. Tammy, too, was giggling and laughing as she looked at her dark and overdone look.

"Mama would _kill_ me!" Tammy giggled again as she did a little twirl, causing her forest green dress to fan out slightly.

"Oh, come on," Amber, after she had finally regained her ability to breathe—much less speak, waved her fingertips encouragingly at Tammy. "You look—"

"Silly?" Tammy finished, before grinning at Amber knowingly. They had had an absolute blast applying the make-up. Dark red lipstick, fire red lip liner, bright green eye shadow, heavy eyeliner, clown-red rouge, and so much mascara that Tammy could barely blink were certainly not a very flattering combination.

"Fender would _definitely_ go for that," The pretty blonde joked, somewhat sarcastically, as she placed her hands on her best friend's shoulders. "and you _know_ it."

Tammy's face flushed, and she bit her lip softly, causing Amber to smirk almost immediately.

"Tammy, I'm just playing with you," Amber reminded her, after a brief moment of silence.

"I know, Amber," Tammy assured, before turning to the mirror again. "I look like a clown," The brunette spoke through giggles, and then plopped down in the chair before Amber's large, pink vanity.

"Well, of course," Her friend concluded, a sly smirk curling upon her rosy lips. "Wasn't that what we were going for?"

"Obviously," Tammy smiled to her via the mirror, and then glanced toward Amber's door. "I guess I'd better go wash all of this off, huh?" She asked the other girl, however rhetorically. Amber snickered once, and then folded her hands against her own hips. She didn't answer Tammy; she merely smirked at her in a sort of silent understanding that both of them were certainly familiar with by now.

Tammy returned the smile, and then pushed herself up from the chair. As she began toward Amber's door, just as her hand was poised to turn and open it, Amber turned to look at her.

"I told Mother that you were staying over tonight," Amber said, with a smirk that, though Tammy could not see it, the brunette knew was present.

"Amber," Tammy turned around to face her. "You know that I have a date with—"

"Fender," Amber made a gracious point not to blatantly roll her eyes. "Yes, I know."

"I can't just stand him up," Her hesitance was more than just obvious. The only thing that was more obvious was the fear that was rising in her eyes. Amber sighed and frowned.

"Actually, you can," Amber crossed her arms over her chest. "It's easy. Just don't go."

"Amber, that's awful," Tammy pursed her lips together tightly. "I could never do that to anyone. That's so mean."

Amber let her shoulders fall somewhat suddenly. Here they went again about him.

"Oh, and he hasn't done that to _you_ before?" She wondered tartly, her eyes narrowed in annoyance at the thought. "Saying that he's going out with his friends, saying that he's babysitting his little brother, saying that his grandmother is over—_really_, Tammy? You are _so_ much better than that."

"Amber, it's not like that," Tammy insisted, knowing that even _she_ didn't sound convinced.

"He treats you like—"

"He treats me just fine, Amber," She had always felt so uncomfortable about this subject, if only because it was a definite sore spot.

Amber ran her tongue over her dry lips, and then sighed once again. She really didn't know what to say anymore. This had not been the first time that Tammy and she had been through this. Fender treated her like a desperate and disposable third wheel. It seemed as though everyone _but_ Tammy knew about his lecherous and repetitive rendezvous with girl after girl.

Sure, Fender was nice enough to Tammy. It was difficult for almost anyone to offer Tammy anything but kindness. However, he had made it all too clear what went on behind the seemingly clueless girl's back. He bragged to virtually every council boy, and Amber, among many others, had—unfortunately—heard more than enough details. It made Amber sick to her stomach, at times, knowing that Tammy was allowing herself to be used like that when she deserved so much better.

"All right," Amber conceded, her expression bland. "But, just stay. It's only one, little date," As Amber saw that Tammy was about to protest, she quickly continued. "I'll take care of everything."

Tammy faltered over her thoughts. She knew that she never wanted to make anyone, much less her supposed 'boyfriend' feel abandoned, but she felt obliged to stay with Amber. She was her best friend; they had known each other for many years, whereas Tammy had only known Fender since he had joined the Council. The brunette parted her lips, and then sighed quietly.

"I'll stay, if… that's okay, Amber," She managed a tiny smile. Amber watched her silently for a moment, and then walked over to her vanity, where she picked up a clean rag that they had brought in here earlier.

"Good," Amber said simply as she handed the rag over to Tammy, who spoke a quiet 'thank you,' prior to retreating down the hallway to the bathroom to wash up.

Amber knew that she could only protect her friend for so long, and that she could only give out unused advice for as long as Tammy would listen. Yet, she knew full well that 'for so long' had a knack for catching up far more quickly than anyone would have ever intended.

_when the sun shines, we'll shine together.  
told you i'll be here forever,  
said i'll always your friend,  
took an oath i'ma stick it out 'til the end._

"He's so horrible," chirped Lou Ann, as she talked animatedly to Becky and Amber. "I saw him with Brenda _again_ yesterday."

"I thought it was Vicki?" Becky countered, before beginning to pick at her sandwich aimlessly.

"That was a couple of days ago," Lou Ann waved her hand dismissively. "He's dreadful, Amber, absolutely dreadful."

Amber remained quiet while her blue eyes lingered absentmindedly on where Tammy and Fender appeared to be talking quietly by the schoolyard fence. A certain flare of anger rose in the pit of Amber's stomach, but she kept it at bay, for the time being.

"Amber?" Lou Ann narrowed her eyes questionably at her. "What's wrong with you?"

"What?" Amber blinked her eyes once. "Nothing, Lou Ann. It's nothing."

"Right. Well. Did you hear what I said?"

"Of course," Amber replied plainly. Clearly, she had not. Just as Lou Ann was about to plow forward with the subject again, Amber realized that a shadow had abruptly befallen their particular lunch table.

"Amber," Shelley spoke monotonously, causing all three girls to glance up at her. Lou Ann tried to hide her disgust; Becky simply glanced away and continued to debate whether or not she actually wished to eat her sorry excuse of a sandwich; and Amber's eyes immediately reduced to slits.

"What do you want, Shelley?" Amber replied to her offhandedly, as she let her eyes wander pointlessly to the lunch table for a moment before glancing back to the redhead.

"Get up, and come here. I have to talk to you," She told her impatiently, as she propped her right hand against her hip. She made it seem as though it was an immense chore to even stand in the same vicinity as Amber and her pitiful group of 'friends.'

Lou Ann scoffed in disapproval and lightly knocked her hand against the table in front of Becky to finally get her attention.

"It's fine, Lou Ann," Amber sighed irritably at Shelley as she willed herself to stand. "This won't take long. I'm sure it's nothing important," Her eyes were locked with Shelley's momentarily before moving back to Becky and Lou Ann. "Just stay here, girls."

Despite her obvious aversion for the situation, Lou Ann just rolled her eyes and remained where she was, instantly reverting back to a conversation with Becky just as Amber and Shelley moved away from the general lunch area.

"Shelley, what the hell is going on?" Amber demanded, once they were safely away from their classmates.

"Don't flatter yourself. I didn't pull you over here to talk about _you_," Shelley withheld an annoyed scoff. "It's about Tammy."

"Ugh!" Amber rolled her eyes again. "I really don't want to hear about it. I've heard enough."

Shelley glared at her fiercely.

"Shut up, and just listen to me," She warned the other girl, her eyes dark with an unvoiced challenged. "As difficult as it is to claim Brenda as a friend, at times, we've finally heard it straight from the horse's mouth."

"You mean _whore_'s?" Amber snapped back bitterly. "What are you talking about?"

"Fender and she have been at it for nearly four months now," Shelley folded her arms across her chest. "Tammy and he are through, Amber. She needs to understand that. There's not much else that we can do for her anymore."

"How do you know that? Brenda's known for stretching the truth about her sexual pedigree."

"I highly doubt that anyone would lie about any experience pertaining to a church's janitor's closet during mass, Amber."

"You would," Amber replied smoothly, a light smirk appearing on her features. Shelley simply rolled her eyes, and dropped her hands to her sides.

"Whatever," Shelley hissed frigidly as she began to turn to leave. "Don't you dare come running to me when everything winds up crashing down on her, Amber. I did my part." With one last glance over her shoulder, Shelley left Amber to stand there, glaring intensely at her back.

Amber scoffed quietly, and then bit down lightly on her bottom lip. She turned slightly and soon found her eyes on Fender and Tammy's conversation near the fence again. Her friend looked happy, but Amber knew that wouldn't be for long, should Fender have his way—as he always did.

_now that it's raining more than ever,  
know that we'll still have each other.  
you can stand under my umbrella._

It was Friday, two days since Shelley had brought the obvious to Amber's attention—two days until Amber realized just how much of a ticking time bomb that Fender actually was. Amber had no plans tonight. Link was doing something or another with someone, and Amber did not honestly care what or with whom. Tammy was spending time with Fender. Lou Ann was out with her family. And only God knew what Becky was doing.

Amber sighed quietly, and then brushed a stray bit of her blond hair from her forehead. Velma was out, of course, thus leaving her to decide on her own just what to do by herself. Amber didn't appear to mind. In fact, the beckoning silence was rather nice. The house was quiet, and the rain outside was more soothing than she would have expected it to be.

Though, at the sound of the doorbell, that all changed. Groaning in irritation, Amber reluctantly pushed herself up from her vanity's chair, and then made her way to her front door. She knew that she would immediately be met with the unsatisfactory feeling of the humidity upon her skin and hair, but she also knew that she did not have much of a choice. Pursing her lips, she unlocked the door, and then carefully swung it open.

Her eyebrows instantly furrowed. Before her stood Shelley with Tammy standing next to her. Tammy looked like an absolute, sopping mess. It was only by Shelley's umbrella that Tammy had evaded becoming even more drenched from the rain. Amber opened her mouth to speak, though she hadn't the faintest idea what to say.

"Wha—"

"Are you going to let us in, or just stand there like an idiot?" Shelley asked dryly, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes," Amber's eyes fell on Tammy, who was presently biting her lip. "Sure," She replied blankly to Shelley.

Making certain that she did not get any water on herself, Shelley very cautiously closed the umbrella, walked inside of Amber's house, and then hung it on a nearby hat rack. Once Tammy had followed Shelley inside, and then Amber slowly shut the door.

"What's going on?" Amber wondered finally, her gaze floating between Shelley and Tammy.

"I was out with my mother," Shelley began, her arms habitually moving to cross over her chest as her pale gaze fell upon Tammy. "and I saw her outside by herself."

"I was just walking home," Tammy added quietly.

"In the rain," Shelley included, with a palpable amount of revulsion toward the concept.

Amber glanced between the two, and then to Tammy.

"What happened?" She knew that she didn't even have to ask; and the bothered look on Shelley's face when she did only furthered her belief.

"I was just visiting someone," Tammy ran her tongue over her lips distractedly, and then stared at the floor.

"Fender," Shelley finished for her, with a roll of her eyes. "I brought her here, because I thought that perhaps _you_ could talk some sense into her, as I have already tried."

Amber propped her hands against her hips and studied Tammy quietly. She could practically see her friend's heart breaking into a million pieces right in front of her. The blonde sighed and moved so that she was standing closer to Tammy.

"Are you all right, Tammy?" Amber thought it was best to ask anyway, in spite of the blatancy of the situation.

Tammy bit her lip and glanced up at her friend. Her eyes were already brimming with tears, and Amber was moderately taken aback by the sight. Tammy had always been so strong. Amber had always wondered how Tammy took all of this. She was constantly being used and taken advantage of, if not by boys that she liked, then by others who were aware that she was willing to help anyone in any way that she possibly could.

"Of course I am, Amber," Tammy forced the smallest of smiles. "Everything is fine; it's just like it always is."

Shelley found herself staring at Tammy, her eyes narrowed with irritated astonishment. She bit her tongue, however, for possibly the first time in her life. Tammy was her friend, as well, and she knew that now was not the time to reprimand her, yet again, for her horrible choices in boys.

"Tammy, he used you," Amber reminded her softly, her eyes thinning with sympathy.

"No, he didn't," Tammy shook her head. "He just… didn't want to hurt me. So, he—"

"Let you go _easily_ before he could do even more damage?" Shelley proposed sardonically, as she leaned against the nearby wall, her arms still crossed over her chest.

"_Shelley_," Amber's voice was reduced to a menacing hiss.

"It's okay, Amber," Tammy shrugged her shoulders, still attempting to smile a little. "Fender's not a bad guy, and I know it. I really believe that."

Shelley turned her head so that she could freely roll her eyes. She honestly wished that she could make Tammy understand that she had been used, that there was a bad side to everyone, and not just a 'good' one.

Amber, however, watched her best friend with narrowed eyes. She felt horribly for her, but, at the same time, she knew that Tammy would be just fine. She was always so strong. All she needed was a little push and attention, and she would be just fine. Still, Amber couldn't help but worry for her, just as she knew that Shelley—somewhere in the midst of her brain—was, as well.

"Hey, Tammy," Amber smiled and placed her hand on the other girl's shoulder. "You know everything's going to be okay, right? I mean, Shelley and I are still here for you, you know."

Tammy inhaled and exhaled heavily, her eyes still shining with unshed tears as she continued to stare at the floor. Amber glanced over at Shelley, somewhat worriedly, but Shelley was clearly leaving the situation to Amber.

"Tammy."

"You're right, Amber," Tammy replied, unexpectedly, as she glanced up to her blond friend. "It just hurts right now."

"Of course it does," Amber kept her hand on Tammy's shoulder for another moment before slowly pulling it away and allowing it to move back down to her side. "But, it doesn't hurt forever."

"I know," The brunette assured both Amber and Shelley, her voice quiet. "Thanks, you guys." She said softly, yet gratefully, as she looked between the other two girls.

Amber moved her hands onto her hips and nodded to Tammy, who immediately willed a tiny smile to her features as she looked toward the front door.

"Well… I'll just go home now," Tammy added, her smile suddenly timid. "I don't want to be a bother."

"No, _stay_," Amber insisted, as she moved in front of Tammy to block any sort of exit. "And you're not bothering anyone. You never have."

"But I know that you two said that you had plans tonight."

Shelley found her thinned eyes on Amber as Tammy spoke. She had no idea that Tammy knew of their plans.

"Our plans can wait," Amber went on to say coolly, her eyes briefly challenging Shelley to protest before glancing back to Tammy. "Besides, I was thinking how _amazing_ your nails would look if I painted them that really soft, pink color," She paused to place her gaze on Shelley again. "Don't you think, Shelley?"

Shelley straightened her posture, and then dropped her arms to her sides.

"Of course," She replied, somewhat unenthusiastically, but with veiled affection that even Tammy could detect. Tammy smiled a bit more.

"Do you really mean it?"

"Yes," Amber asserted with playful irritation, as she reached out and grasped Tammy's slender wrist. "Come on. Tonight's the _perfect_ night for a girls' night in."

Tammy paused for another moment, and then smiled, much more brightly than before. Something about being in the company of two of her closest friends made her feel significantly better. She knew that everything was all right. She wasn't about to be robbed of her happiness just because of some _boy_.

"Thank you," Tammy spoke again, her eyes gleaming appreciatively.

"You're welcome," Amber replied, a teasing grin on her face. "You know that we'll always be here for you. No matter what."

"Even if you refuse to listen to our advice," Shelley added, with a good-natured roll of her eyes yet again.

"Thanks, Shelley," Tammy giggled and grinned over to her other friend, as they all made their way up to Amber's room.

_these fancy things will never come in between.  
you're part of my entity, here for infinity.  
when the war has took its part,  
when the world has dealt its cards,  
if the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart._


End file.
